A Desperate Sacrifice
by Haleira
Summary: Various stories both well known and not tied up in a brutal tale of adventure. Who will live happily ever after? Who will meet their bloody end?
1. Once Upon a Time

**"Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived in a small town a wealthy merchant and his daughter. The merchant was kind but shrewd in his business dealings and as such had become the wealthiest person in the small community. He was, however, not so lucky in matters of the heart, and had lost his wife long ago to a plague. In its wake of death and sorrow, the sickness had left untouched their infant daughter. Though heartbroken the merchant set to raise his only child in the best manner he could. As time passed and the child grew, her beauty became apparent. Suitors began to appear, drawn in by stories of a blue-eyed beauty and her wealthy father. The merchant himself would be pleased with many of those who came to court, for they were of proper standing and would offer his daughter a life of comfort should she so choose.**

 **The girl was not so easily won, for she wished to marry for love. Nearly every day a suitor left the merchants home more dejected than the last. Her father began to grow worried that she would never choose a husband and began to encourage the more headstrong of them to stay and try to win her over. With her home invaded by those she could not chase away the maiden turned to the surrounding forest for sanctuary.**

 **She had found a small lake far from the prying eyes of her father or the town's people when she was but a child and it was here she began to spend much of her time. The crystal clear waters had always been a comfort to her, but not as much as the large willow tree which stood not far away. The branches hung low over the water, and on a windy day, they would delicately dip into the waters to send ripples across the surface. It was beneath this tree that the girl fell asleep one day, lulled by the warmth of the sun and the gentle songs of the birds.**

 **It was by chance that same day a poor farmer's son set out early into the forest to collect firewood for his parents. With his ax over his shoulder and a whistle on his lips, he strode confidently into the dark wood. His life had not been easy, and from a young age, he had worked side by side with his father to ensure their meager life would continue. He stood tall and strong from years of labor, with hair and eyes the color of the very earth he worked with day in and day out. As he broke through the tree line the man was startled by what he saw. He swore that day he lay eyes on a faerie princess, laying beneath a tree that was so moved by her beauty, its branches hung low and wept. So entranced was he by her beauty that he moved forward without a second thought, his** axe **dragging along in the earth at his side. It was then that the maiden awoke, startled by the presence of another. There before her, the farmer's son stood,** axe **at his side and mouth agape. She needed to wait for him to speak as she had heard the stories of dangerous thieves in these woods and had no intention of becoming his victim. Before he could recover himself the maiden had grabbed hold of a nearby fallen branch and swung at him. The boy fell to the earth with a single blow, nearly losing consciousness. Scrambling backward the farmer's son managed to spit out his explanation, as well as several apologizes for frightening her.**

 **So genuine was he in his story that she maiden couldn't help but laugh. She tended to him then, dipping her silken sleeve into the cool lake water before dabbing it lightly on his wound. They enjoyed each other's company that day, and before they knew it, it was time to part.**

 **And so things passed like this for some time. On the days they could the two would meet beneath branches of the three. It was here the girl taught him to read and he taught her to fish, and the two found themselves lost in their own world. Not all good things can last, however, and it wasn't long before the merchant's father lost his patience and decided she was to be wed.**

 **As it so happened a young prince of the neighboring kingdom was passing through the town when a fierce storm picked up and he was forced to seek shelter with the merchant. All too eager to please the prince the merchant greeted him warmly and invited him to dine with him upon the finest meats and wines he had to offer. The prince was haughty however and saw himself as far above the merchant. He wrinkled his nose at every offering and commented loudly on his discomforts. It wasn't until the merchant's daughter entered the room that the prince took interest in anything.**

 **All through the night, he watched her with devils eyes, and although she showed little interest in him the prince had already decided to make her his. As the night wore on and he became drunk with wine, he made his intentions known to her father. The prince would leave in two days' time and take the maiden with him to the capital. The maiden overheard the prince and her father, for the wine had made them believe they were far quieter than they truly were.**

 **That night she stole out to the lake to find her secret love, begging him to take her far away. He warned her a life with him was never going to be what she deserved, for though he was true and honest he would never be more than the son of a poor farmer. The maiden cried to him that she cared naught for what he could give her if only he would remain true to her for all his days that would be enough. A plan was hatched them for them to meet the following night and steal off together. He would return to his parents' home to gather his tools and wish them farewell, and she gathers a few pieces of jewelry for them to start a life together far from the village.**

 **The following morning the maiden pretended to be ill and took to her bed, shutting out her father and servants. Under the guise of rest, she moved about her room, storing away what small trinkets and jewels she thought would fetch the best prices on the markets. A dragon shaped necklace of gold with two rubies for eyes, emerald studded slippers from a foreign market, sapphire earrings said to be gifted from a mermaid. More and more until the small bag she had was filled. Only then did she truly rest.**

 **It was nearly night when she awoke, and for a single terrifying moment, she thought her moment had gone. Quickly she dressed and stole out of her house to meet her lover. He was waiting already beneath their tree, nervously pacing back and forth. He took her in his arms and kissed her, ready to begin their life together. The two were not alone, however, as the prince had seen her slip out through the kitchen doors. He had followed then with the darkest intents. Upon seeing his intended give the love and affection he so desired to a commoner a rage unlike any other took hold of him. Drawing his sword the prince charged the two, intending to kill them both. Protecting his dearest the farmer's son threw her to the ground just as the sword pierced his chest, pinning him to the tree. Blood trickled from the wound and onto the cold earth even as the prince struggled to remove the steel from the trunk. The prince's cruel laugh was heard as he withdrew his weapon from the wood, the farmer's son slumping to the ground. The maiden cried for her love and rushed forward, begging him to stay with her. A sudden crack was heard and silently fell upon the forest. Before the prince there stood a small child-like figure. She was dark as the earth itself, with a massive tangle of bright green hair. The creature fixed the prince with such an absolute look of hatred that he was unable to move. The forest spirit crouched low and grabbed fistfuls of the blood soaked earth. Her bright green eyes never once leaving the prince's** terrified **figure. Ancient words spilled forth from the creature's lips as a sudden storm of dirt kicked up. In a single moment, the first swallowed the prince and the next it was gone. Where the prince had once stood there was now a large brown toad, spotted in bright red from where the bloody earth had hit him. The spirit crouched once more to look at the** toad **, making sure he could hear her. It was his punishment, she said, for he cared naught for anyone but himself and in harming her tree she would damn him to this body for all eternity until he could find one who could care for him.**

 **Turning then towards the two lovers the forest spirit smiled, all traces of the hatred she had gone as quickly as the dust. Reaching a hand above her head the spirit trained her eyes on the maiden. The branches bowed low to their mistress and soon her hand found what she was looking for. Snapping off a branch the spirit dragged it along the wound of the poor boy. Instantly it sealed, leaving his clothes tattered and the boy with a jagged, but healed the scar. He struggled to his feet and with the maidens, help was able to stand. The spirit girl then offered the branch to the two, telling them she had watched their love bloom beneath her tree, and wished them to take a part of her with them on their travels. She asked that they plant the branch outside of their new home as they begin their lives anew.**

 **And so the maiden and farmers son set off together through the woods, not knowing where they go or when they would get there, but that with each other they would be able to find a way."**

"What then mama?" Amber peered out from behind the thick trunk of the willow tree, her small fingers digging into the rugged grooves along its bark. At eight years old Amber lived for the stories her mother told. Fay let out a laugh, the sound hanging in the air just a moment before being whisked away by the gentle spring breeze. "You know how it ends Amber, they live happily ever after!" Fay had long since stopped counting the number of times she told her youngest this story, and yet after each retelling, she was always asked the same thing. "Now come, we must start supper for your brothers and father." Fay reached out a pale, well-worn hand towards the child. Life on their little farm had been hard and unforgiving, and after each thaw, Fay swore her hands grew more cracked and calloused. She had no time to dwell on these thoughts, however, as her hands were quickly covered by Amber's own. Side by side mother and daughter walked down the small hill, their feet carving a pathway through the thick green grass that stretched as far as the eyes could see.

The home was small, plain, and made of wood. It was far too hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. The floor was well worn and would creak, the chimney would fill the house with smoke if it wasn't cleaned out each week, and the roof would leak when the spring rains came. Despite all its faults, this was their home. There was the loft where Fay and Cyn had lay that first night together when their love for each other was still new and the future was a mystery, and there was the doorframe covered in small scratch marks showing the children's growth. Fay passed through the home with her daughter in tow, barely noticing all the little things that marked the passage of time in this place. Fay made her way through the small living room and into the kitchen. Only then did she released her daughter's hand, instructing her to go bring in water from the outdoor well. The kitchen was small, barely big enough for Fay and Amber to move around in. In a sense Fay was glad. She loved her children dearly but longed for the rare moments she had alone, and the small kitchen was excuse enough to send her daughter on various errands while she cooked.

Amber leaned over the edge of the well, staring down into the dark depths. She had heard the stories her mother told her and knew with all her heart that some magical creature must live down below. Maybe this time it would ride up in the bucket to say hello. Slowly the young girl pulled away from the edge and took up the rope in both small hands. Though she was young, Amber had done this chore since she could remember, and even as she struggled and puffed to pull the full bucket up she knew it was just that much easier from yesterday. Wiping the sweat off her rough hands on her dark blue dress Amber reached forward and took the bucket down from the well. She was careful not to spill it as she set it on the ground, the grass flattening beneath the weight. Amber pushed her long blonde braid back over her shoulder before peering into the wooden container with all the seriousness of a judge. She stared down into the dark water, light blue eyes searching for any sign of movement, any disruption in the clarity. Only once she was fully satisfied that there were no secret water fairies hidden in the water did she stand up and prepare for the journey home. Mama would be upset if she dawdled, and as it was she had spent far too much time collecting the water.

The door opened with a large bang, revealing a struggling Amber. She was tired from the short walk from the well to their home. The bucket was heavy, and it took all her might to drag it the rest of the way to the kitchen. "Amber what did I tell you about slamming that door?" Mild frustration tinted the voice of Fay as she leaned her head out of the kitchen. Her scolding was cut short however as she spied the little girl. Dirty, sweating, and panting as if she had just run a marathon Amber finally rested the bucket down at her mother's feet. She beamed with pride up at her mother, small white teeth glinting in the fading daylight. "I brought extra water this time mama, look the bucket is almost completely full!" Fay let a small sigh escape her cracked lips, a smile soon replacing the light frown she had previously worn. "Ah, you are getting bigger each day my little gem. Go then, clean up and set the table." With a dismissive wave, Fay turned back to her cooking. The scent of cooked meats and warm bread filled the air and Amber was suddenly very aware of how hungry she was. She took up the bucket handle then and began to drag the water away to the corner. It wouldn't do to leave the washing water lying about in the kitchen. Last time she had left it her mother had tripped over it and their entire dinner was ruined. Amber winced as she dipped her raw hands into the cool water. The memory stung at the back of her mind and brought a faint pink to her cheeks. The sound of the big cooking pot dropping to the floor, hot stew flying out in all directions. Mama had looked so disappointed and they had all gone hungry that night. Shaking herself free of the intruding thoughts Amber splashed a generous amount of water on her sunburnt cheeks as if trying to wash away the blush. Drying her hands on her blue dress Amber turned her attention to the last task of the day. Bringing out mismatched cups and plates she carefully set the table. Next the silverware, bowls, and finally napkins. As the last piece was put in place Amber took a step back to admire her work. Mama always told her to dress the table for company, as who knows what visitors one might have in these parts. Her inspection was cut short however by the sounds of the heavy wooden door being swung open.

A bear of a man stepped forth into the candlelight. If the doorway had been two inches shorter or thinner the man would be unable to get into the home. Tired, dark brown eyes roamed over the set dining table and Amber. He smiled then, and though his lips were hidden by a thick beard of black, his eyes lit up as they came to rest on his little daughter. Kneeling down he spread his arms open just in time for Amber to leap into them. Wrapping his arms around the girl he stood up and spun her around the small room. Gleeful laughter filled the house and Amber clung to her father. "Daddy, daddy! What did you bring me, daddy?" Cyn balanced Amber carefully on his hip, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist as to keep her steady. He cocked his head to the side and stared down at her with a mixture of confusion and bemusement. "Bring you? Why now that you mention it I am sure I brought you something. Hm, now what could it be?" Bringing his other hand up the giant began to stroke his beard as if deep in thought. After a second the coarse strands of hair were pulled away to reveal a small white flower hidden beneath. Amber clapped her hands together before covering her mouth to stifle her giggles. "Papa there!" Amber reached out with both hands to pluck the flower from her father, pulling it close to her. Cyn leaned forward and gently placed the child on the ground, pushing her lightly towards the kitchen table. "Time for supper little gem, go sit down." Amber followed his instructions, cradling her new flower protectively against her chest.

Placing the flower gently on the table Amber scrambled up onto her stool, swinging her legs back and forth beneath the table. As Cyn raised and straightened himself he found himself suddenly off-balance. Two boys of about ten ran under their father's arms, laughing and shouting as they leaped into their own places at the table. Fay set the large pot of stew down in the middle of the table, smacking on of the boy's hands with the spoon before letting it rest beside the pot. "Wash. Now" Fay had barely let the words escape her mouth before the boys were up and racing towards the pot of water, grumbling all the way. Cyn let out a hearty laugh at the boy's actions before leaning in to kiss his wife. Fay threw her husband a devilish grin, leaning in to return the kiss before taking hold of his beard and giving it a light tug away from her. "Ah-ah, you need to wash too," Cyn grumbled much like his sons before slinking off towards the bucket.

Fay leaned back to survey the table. Her sons argued over who had the larger share of bread, and her daughter absent-mindedly ate her stew while looking at her new flower. Her eyes fell on her husband, who had been staring at her for who knows how long. She wondered what he saw in her now. She wondered if he regretted running off with her all those years ago. Back when her face was smooth and her eyes bright, when youth was part of her very being. Cyn's eyes wrinkled in the way they did when he smiled. Barely a whisper he leaned forward and Fay caught just the edge of a scar under his shirt. "You are so beautiful my little fairy." Fay turned a bright pink before swatting his arm. After all these years he could still make her blush like a new maiden. "Oh shush you, eat before it gets cold."


	2. The Burning

Amber woke with a start and for a moment lay in bed, confused as to what could have woken her. Sweat drenched her body, her soft white nightgown clinging to her skin. God, why was it so hot? Amber slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows. Soft yellow light filtered through the window pane illuminating some parts of her bedroom. Beside her lay the sleeping forms of her brothers. They two appeared to be covered in sweat, their dark hair matted to their foreheads and their cheeks flushed pink. As awareness began to come back to her Amber snapped her attention back to the window. Something wasn't right here, the light wasn't from the sun. Amber ran over to the window and pushed the pane open. Dark smoke poured into the room around Amber, spreading out over the wooden floor. Amber stared wide-eyed at the land surrounding their home. The fire was everywhere, spreading throughout the surrounding forest and engulfing the entire field as far as she could see. Amber stepped back as a sudden fit of coughing took over her, the smoky air burning her lungs. Clay and Sar sat up, startled awake by the sounds of distress coming from their sister. For an instant, they all stared at each other, confusion and fright evident in their eyes. Loud shouting outside their door snapped them out of their trance and Sar quickly moved towards his siblings. He pushed Amber towards the bed, urging her to get beneath the wooden frame and hide. Amber crawled under the bed and pressed herself against the far wall just as a heavy crash came against the bedroom door. Sar and Clay looked up, wide-eyed as the wood began to splinter, and maniacal laughter pierced the smoke filled room. The sickly-sweet voice of a strange man filled the air. It sounded as if he were trying to imitate the voice of a child, though his words and pitch were all wrong. Come out little lambs, don't you want to play? Your mommy and daddy are playing with us. If you just open the door and come out nicely we'll make it a nice painless death. We won't even roast you alive." A second crash came as the man continued to kick the door down. Clay slipped under the bed just as the door gave way, revealing a man nearly as tall as their father looming over Sar. The little boy who had always wanted to be a soldier had ensured Amber and Clay were safe but never had a chance to join them. A single scream and loud thump was heard before the child's body dropped to the wooden floor. Amber and Clay could do nothing but stare into the unfocused eyes of their brother as they struggled not to scream. Blood began to trickle down over his forehead, dripping down to stain the wood. Hysterically Amber wondered if the red would ever come out of the floor, and how upset her mother would be to see they had made a mess. Tears began to form in the corners of Sar's eyes as he began to slip away, leaving the remaining two to watch as the light faded away into nothing.

It seemed like hours they lay there after the man had gone, the thudding of his footsteps quickly replaced by the thudding of their hearts. The fire was coming and they could not stay here forever. Already the flames were crawling through the open window, and each second longer in the room making it harder and harder to breathe. Biting back sobs Amber crawled out from under the bed after Clay. The older boy stared down at his twin, the dead body staring forward under the bed as if begging for help. Blood caked the gaping wound in his head, and Clay spotted the bits of the skull that had fractured under the weight of whatever heavy object that man had used. Brain matter could be seen oozing out from the wound, and for a horrible moment, Clay had to fight down the urge to vomit. Turning to grab hold of Amber he began to pull her towards the door. "We have to go, Amber, we have to find mommy and daddy. Go to the fairy circle, I'll find them and bring them there." Amber wished with all her might that she could be as brave as her brothers, but in the end resigned herself to nodding in compliance. Clay ran out through the crumbling home, shielding his sister from the frontal force of the flames. His flesh became singed and his hair curled as it burned. Still, he pushed onward until they were out in the night air, away from the burning wreckage. Clay doubled over in pain, fighting the lightheadedness and fit of coughing that threatened to consume him. Once recovered the boy grabbed his sister's shoulders, staring into her scared blue eyes. "Amber, you have to be strong, ok? Go to the circle, the faeries will protect you until I get mommy and daddy, ok?" Amber struggled to keep from crying, wells of water filling and refilling her eyes each time she wiped a sooty hand over them. Before she could respond Clay was off, running through the burning fields towards the one place he knew his parents would be.

The willow tree whipped back and forth as it burned in the wind, long branches leaving trails of fire in the night sky. Each arcing swing of the wood created a rush that sounded like a wailing cry. Beneath the dying tree, Cyn and Fay were cornered by the invaders, each one looking meaner and more bloodthirsty than the last. Cyn had long since moved between his wife and the bandits, and held his woodcutter's ax in front of him, brandishing it towards the men. He would not be afraid, not now not ever. The bandits circled in on them, each jab or swing easily parried by the ax. Cyn never saw who the man was that ended his life, never saw who it was that drove the blade into his chest, pinning him to the trunk. The ax fell to the ground, useless and forgotten and for a split second Cyn found himself amused at the thought that this didn't hurt as much as it had the first time. He was broken out of his trance as his wife let out a final scream, falling dead at his feet. The leader laughed, holding her head up high for his crew to admire, the blood dripping freely from the ragged cut that had severed it from the body. His last thoughts were of the day they had met, how peacefully she had looked laying beneath that willow tree. Perhaps, he thought, he would find her again.

Clay was halted by the final dying shriek of his mother. It was too late, he knew and judging from the looming shadows of half a dozen men on the hill, it would soon be too late for him. He turned then and ran towards the woods. The smoke and fatigue from the earlier strain were threatening to stop him, but he knew he could not afford even a moment's rest. He had to push forward. Clay had always wanted to be an adventurer, and it was with this practice that he leaped over fallen branches and tore through the forest shrubs with ease. Faster and faster he ran until signs of the fire began to fade into the distance and the moon became his primary source of light. Finally, he broke through the tree-line and into the clearing. The ring of mushrooms was just as he remembered it, oddly shaped, white, and in a perfect circle in the dead center of the forest. In the circle was Amber, her small arms wrapped tightly around her knees and rocking back and forth. Clay approached her, and as he made the first step over the circle fell, unconscious even before he hit the earth. Amber was quick to rush to his side, breaking off several mushrooms in her mad dash.

An angry hiss seeped out from the broken fungus, and before her eyes appeared two identical figures. The creatures were tall and humanoid, white and devoid of any facial features. A large bulbous head sat on their torsos, with massive arms breaking into three long fingers each. Neither had any hands nor feet and instead seemed to hover there in midair. Slowly the creatures moved towards the frightened girl, stopping mere feet away. Slowly they each raised an arm, pointing their sickly long fingers in her direction. Amber spoke quickly before the creatures were able to speak. "Please help, I want to go home!" The fire would catch them soon, her parents and brother were already dead, and her last remaining brother was dying in her arms. "Please, you have to help, you are faeries!" She begged the figures, desperate for some solution, anything to escape this nightmare. The creatures stood silent for what seemed like hours before a voice filling her mind and threatening to break the slim grip she had left on reality. "Do you now, child?" The voice was low and gravely, and each word it spoke seemed to crawl over her skin, leaving her feeling far dirtier than the ash and soot that covered her would ever make her feel. "What would you give, to go home and be with your mommy?" The faery being had not moved from where it stood, it's elongated fingers still pointed in her direction. "A-anything, I'll do anything just please fix this." The child began to cry against, burying her fair in her brother's chest, fingers still clenched in the now gray fabric of his nightshirt.

When she had worn herself down with exhaustion she raised her head once more, her eyes focused on the grass before her. There lay a blade as black as the night pointed on both ends and without any grip, she could see. The thing had yet to move, and with the same sickening voice instructed Amber to pick up the blade. "This will not harm you, and only cut those who you truly wish to hurt. In order for what you wish to be done, you must kill your brother and feed the mushrooms." Silence hung in the air as Amber struggled to understand what the creature was ordering her to do. After a few moments longer the thing continued. "If you do as we bid you to, we will return you to your home with your family and it will be as if this night never happened."

Amber stared down at the silent body of her brother, the blade now grasped in her little hand. Her breathing became strained as she debated on what to do, eyes darting back and forth between Clay and the knife. The creature had begun to whisper in her mind, softly at first and then louder and louder until it was a constant barrage of "Do it" ricocheting in her skull. "No, no, no, no" Amber began to cry, twin streams of water cutting paths through her soot covered cheeks before finally dropping off and falling to the earth. With each whispered "no" the voices grew louder, overcoming and drowning out her pleas. "Do it and it will all be over." "Do it and everyone will be safe." "They want you to help them, Amber." "Your mama needs you!" Over and over the voices began to run together until it became an endless loop of screaming. She struggled to keep her grip on reality, but it wasn't long until Amber felt herself begin to slip. With a sudden scream, Amber thrust the blade down into Clay's chest, desperate to stop the voices. The blade sunk into the flesh, passing through his ribcage and into his heart with ease. Blood pooled up out of the wound and began to slide down into the grass with unnatural speed. The boy's blood began to make its escape alone the earth, only stopping once it came into contact with some of the fallen mushrooms. All around caps became reattached to their stems, now stained red with the child's blood. Soon the circle was complete once more, and Amber was left alone in the dark, her dead brother lying at her side.


	3. Chocolates

Amber awoke suddenly, a sharp screaming coming from her lips. The early morning was cool, yet her thick blonde hair clung to her forehead with sweat. It had been ten years since that night and ten years since the nightmares had begun. Every night the same dream, her brother's lifeless eyes staring blankly ahead, the blood staining her fingers, and the monstrous cackle of the creature that had promised her so much. Shaking away the remaining dark thoughts Amber gathered up the threadbare blanket and stood up from the floor. Her muscles ached, the cold wood being unforgiving as she slept. After rolling her shoulders back she placed the blanket gently on the nearest crate before turning back around. The room was small and was truly nothing more than a storage room. When her family was still alive it had been used as a pantry to store food for the winter. At least that much hadn't changed, and even now the walls were lined with rows of salted meats and pickled vegetables. Amber moved about the room, gathering the necessary supplies for breakfast. Already her stomach growled in protest as if anticipating the possibility of a meal. Did she eat yesterday? She couldn't remember, but maybe that is for the best. Walking through the small house Amber let her eyes drift to the doorframe, the little marks measuring how she and her siblings had grown still there. Biting down on her chapped lips Amber stuck the fire and began to cook. Soon her mind began to wander, the mind-numbing task having not changed in the many years she had been doing it. Her lips stretched into a thin line as her fingers brushed lightly over the bowl that used to belong to Clay. Deciding against it, she instead took her own bowl from the cupboard and began to spoon in the thick porridge. Since that night so many years ago Amber had been following this ritual. As she strode down the small hall towards her parent's room Amber let her mind wander to the night of the attacks. Unconsciously she squeezed her hand shut, knowing the scar on her palm attested to her guilt. It was her fault the house still stood, and her fault her brothers had died. The creature had told her that it would return her home, to her family. It did not specify that it would be her original family, and so when the bandit leader had found her all those years ago, unconscious at her dead brother's side, did his promise become fulfilled. He had brought her back to her home, somehow untouched by the fire despite it being engulfed just a few short hours ago and gave her to his wife to raise. Now she stood in front of her parent's door silent and waiting. Long ago she would have barged in and leaped into bed with her parents who would have laughed and held her. Her mother might scold her for being too loud, but her father would wink at her and they would all get ready for the day. Those ghosts were no more, and instead of her loving parents behind the door, a demon lay at rest. God how she hated this part. If she knocked too soon and woke Laurel up she would be beaten and screamed at for waking her up. If she was late however she would be beaten and screamed at for being lazy. The seconds ticked by and Amber held her breath, and she began to lose feelings in her feet and hands. Gripping the bowl tightly Amber squeezed her eyes shut, praying that she had not come too late and missed her chance. Finally, she heard the sound of rustling bedclothes and a yawn as her step-mother awoke. Gently she knocked on the wooden door, wincing as the sharp sound broke the silence of the night. "Hurry up you lazy girl!" Amber quickly opened the door and stepped inside, head bowed as she made her way to the bedside. Gently she placed the bowl of steaming porridge on the table beside the bed, clasping her hands in front of her. "Good morning, mother." Amber had long since learned to call her mother, many beatings having taught her the fight simply wasn't worth it. Laurel picked up the wooden spoon from her breakfast and sniffed at it suspiciously. Slowly she took a bite before waving her free hand dismissively. "Stupid girl can't even make porridge right, you're useless!" Laurel frowned down at the breakfast before letting out an exaggerated sigh. Raising a single wrinkled hand she moved to bush a piece of Ambers golden hair from her face, the tips lightly dancing over the yellowed bruise that encompassed much of her left eye. Amber bite down hard on the inside of her cheek, fighting down the urge to flinch. "You make me do this you know. I try and try to make you into a suitable woman and yet you're just too stupid to understand. No one will ever want such a stupid ugly girl." Laurel sighed once more and waved a hand dismissively. "Go, get out of my sight before you ruin my appetite". Amber quickly exited the room, only too happy to disappear from the woman's presence.

The bucket splashed into the dark depths below, tiny droplets of water creating a fine mist. Amber dug her bare heels into the cool earth and begun to pull the vessel up from the dark depths below. With each pull of the rope, she felt her stomach drop further and further towards the ground. Silently she prayed the bucket would not be carrying any unwanted passengers.

Taking the bucket down from the well Amber placed it down on the ground. Like so many years ago she leaned over the water, searching through the waters for any unknown beings. This time, however, it was fear in her eyes and not hope. Once she was satisfied nothing horrendous lay beneath the surface she began her trek back home. All around her birds of various colors sang a cheerful chorus, flitting across the green trees while squirrels raced up and down branches, stealing away nuts and berries. A wry smile twisted across Ambers' face as she walked past the only thing that stood as a testament to what had happened so many years ago.

The willow stood out against the blue sky, dark twisted branches threatening to snap off at the slightest breeze. The creature she had met certainly had a twisted sense of humor as when it healed the forest around her, it left this reminder of a time when she was happy. Dark and twisted, broken and burnt the willow stood, and with it came a ring of dirt that surrounded it. Nothing wanted to grow there, and many times Laurel threatened to have the eyesore cut down and hauled away. It was only after many sessions of begging and many beatings that Laurel agreed to leave it be, if only for one more day.

As Amber walked through the door with the washing water she was suddenly struck from the front by something hard. Struggling to regain her footing Amber set the bucket down and glanced around at what hit her. A shoe lay on the floor beside her and dread filled her body. Laurel began to scream at her, cutting her off before she was able to brace herself. A tirade of cruel names and obscenities filled the air, and Amber could do nothing but stare at the floor and pray that it didn't get physical this time. Laurel paused a moment to take a deep drink from her glass, the red wine threatening to spill out over the floor as she waved it around in anger. It was nearly ten in the morning by now and already Laurel's eyes were bloodshot and her speech slurred. As Laurel exhausted herself and the verbal abuse came to an end she was suddenly caught up in a whim and wrapped her free hand around Amber's forehead. The boney fingers pressed into her flesh with such force, Amber knew there would be a bruise later. Tears of pain stung her eyes as she fought with every fiber of her being not to pull away and run for her life. She had learned long ago that this would never help and it was best to wait for the storm to pass. "Chocolates! I want chocolates." The command was clear and as her stepmother pushed her out the door Amber took off towards the forest. Chocolates were reserved only for the rich, thought this was not the first nor the most outlandish demand Laurel had made of her. Already Amber could feel the sting of the belt and the tightening of the rope as Laurel's future punishments came to mind. Faster and faster she ran until her surroundings became less familiar and her lungs ached. Unable to go any further she fell to her knees, tears coming unbidden to her eyes. Her sobs bubbled up and came forth, unable to remain hidden any longer. She was tired of trying to hide her cries, tired of the pain and tired of being a servant. She wanted her mother, her father, brothers, and her life back. Her shoulders shook, and she curled herself into a small ball against the boulder she had come to stop at. After a time she quieted, exhausted at her final collapse and lulled to sleep by the sweet songs of the birds.

The warmth of the light slowly faded away as dusk began to fall, and Amber found herself groggily coming back to consciousness. Blinking away the sleep Amber slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, her back against the cooling surface of stone. Slowly her eyes focused in on a foreign object before her, a small red box that stood out so brilliantly from the ground she was sure it was not there before. With a sharp inhale of breath Amber jerked her legs forward, wrapping her arms around her knees once more. Panic began to rise in her chest as she glanced feverishly around, desperate for some explanation as to why the box was there. As her heart rate began to slow Amber decided to chance it and crept forward on her hands and knees. Slowly she picked up the box, the velvet surface feeling gentle against her calloused hands. With another suspicious look around she gently pried open one corner of the box in order to see its contents. Chocolates, shaped like flowers and placed carefully on small swatches of silk lined in inside of the box. For a moment Amber considered leaving the box where it lay and returning home, but she knew she might not survive another beating like last time. It had been too long since she was allowed to eat, and she was weak. Perhaps if she returned to her stepmother with these treats she would be given some bread, or perhaps even a helping of stew. Before she could muse any further Amber took off running back the way she had come, the bright red package clutched tightly against her chest.

Amber made it to the house just as the last rays of sun disappeared behind the mountains. Stealing herself she nervously patted at her ragged blue dress in an attempt to make herself more presentable. At last, she entered the house, wincing as she heard the heavy footsteps of her stepmother. "Where have you been you, stupid girl?!" The screaming had begun at once, and Amber was a force to duck down as another shoe flew at her. Amber held out the box like a shield, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip in an attempt to suppress a scream. As Laurel paused to take another drink she spied the bright colored box and within seconds was in front of Amber. Snatching the box from Amber she exchanged it with her glass, causing Amber to stumble back awkwardly as she tried not to spill the wine. Tearing off the top of the box Laurel eyed the precious candy with greedy eyes. Suspiciously she moved her eyes back from the chocolates to her stepdaughter and back again. Deciding the girl was too stupid to do anything mischievous she plucked the first of the flower-shaped candies and popped it into her mouth. Heavy flavors of cacao-rich chocolate and sweetened milk overwhelmed Laurel, and for a moment she found herself blissfully happy, lost in the moment. As it passed the old woman turned back towards Amber. Reaching forward she snatched the wine glass away and made her way down to her room. Amber fell back against the wall, her hands clutched tightly to her chest. It was over, the day was finally over and she had won. It was the first day in she could remember ever having escaped without a single beating and she was ashamed at how joyful she felt. It was only after she had laid down on the cold floor that she let her mind wander. As her eyes fluttered shut she swore she could hear the maniacal laughter of the creature that had "helped" her all those years ago.


	4. The Visit

There was so much blood. Amber stared down at her hands, the dark red liquid covering nearly every inch of them. Darkness closed in from the corner of her eyes, and a painful ringing began in her ears. Amber swayed in place, eyes locked on her stained flesh. The ringing grew louder as the forest around her stopped existing. She fell to her knees then, her body unable to support her weight anymore. Amber snapped back into reality and began to furiously rub her palms against the soft grass below her. The grass tore from its roots and the heavy scent of wet dirt invaded her nostrils. Still Amber continued her assault, even as small pebbles and rocks pressed into her palms, and dirt became packed under her fingernails. It wasn't until the earth itself broke open that Amber stopped, and only then due to the small hand that grasped her wrist. Pale mottled flesh arose from dark depths, forcing its way back into the world that had long since forgotten it. Strips of flesh tore from bone as more and more dirt came away. Amber wrenched her hand away from its prison violently, moving backward until her back rested firmly against a tree. With a low groan did the thing finally rise, muscle and bone barely able to hold it upright. The boy's corpse shambled forward towards Amber much in the same way a marionette would walk. Its skin had long since entered a state of decay, and with each step more and more fell from its body. Amber retched as the scent of death and rot filling the humid air, and a sudden feeling of lightheadedness overtook her. The thing stopped mere feet in front of Amber, and though she fought it, she found herself transfixed and staring into its face. Empty eye sockets met her gaze, filled and dripping with maggots and centipedes. Bugs of every kind feasted on what was left of this poor soul, although it did not seem to mind. Instead, it addressed her, a voice torn from a voice box which had long since rotted into shards. "For you, dear sister.." Amber trembled in an absolute panic as her brother raised it's skeletal hands, offering out a small red box.

Cold oxygen rushed into her lungs as Ambers' eyes flew open. She stared for what seemed like an eternity at the wooden ceiling, unable to move. A numbness has overtaken her body, and for several moments she lay paralyzed as she processed the nightmare. Slowly she came to terms with the night's events and began to rise in order to perform her duties.

Amber placed the morning porridge on the table beside her step-mother before stepping back and folding her hands before her. Laurel's beady eyes followed her with malevolent intent. In a single sudden motion, she stood from the bed and, ignoring the porridge began to drag Amber down the hallway by her wrist. Amber winced as the woman's bony fingers dug into her, nails threatening to draw blood. Amber knew where she was being taken. The door loomed ahead, growing closer and closer all too quickly for her taste. Laurel through open the door and thrust Amber inside, a cruel gleam in her eye. In the years since the tragic event that left Amber alone with this woman, her old room had been converted into a second storage room for the winter. Now it was filled with barrels of wine, whole racks of meat, great sacks of flour, and several small mountains of potatoes and various other vegetables were piled high covering almost every last inch of space. Amber was fixated not on the contents of the room but instead on a large red stain on the wooden floor, one of the few spaces in the room not occupied by some food item. Funny how difficult it was for blood to get out of the floor, even after all these years. Part of her wondered if Laurel left it there as a way to torment her, a reminder of when her husband had killed Ambers brother in front of her very eyes.

A sudden smack on the back of her head caused Amber to nearly lose her footing and snapped her back to reality. "Are you listening to me you stupid girl?" Laurel's tone had taken on a dangerous edge, and Amber was quick to look as subservient as possible. "Y-yes mother, forgive me, mother." Laurel hissed out her orders once more, the anger in her voice rising with each passing moment. "Your father and his unit will be passing through tonight. You can finally stop being a good-for-nothing and get supper ready for them. 300 men, dusk, and don't forget the glazed carrots, they are his favorite.

The door slammed shut behind Laurel as she sauntered out, no doubt to begin her daily drinking. Amber was taken aback by the order staring wide-eyed at the sheer quantity of food before her. Amber fell back against the wall as the realization of her task overwhelmed her. She couldn't possibly prepare a meal for 30 men before dusk, let alone 300!

Amber retrieved a small paring knife from her apron pocket before setting to the task of peeling what was surely a small field of potatoes. The task was mind-numbing and long, but after a house Amber felt as though she was making good progress. A triumphant smile crossed her face as she turned to see her work. The pile looked as if it had not been touched in the least, and Amber could feel hopelessness return to her. In frustration she set to double her efforts in peeling, her knife turning into a blur as piles of potato skin fell at her feet. A single slip and the knife sliced into her tender flesh, tearing open her thumb. Blood dripped free of the wound and Amber found herself suddenly overcome. Tears of frustration came unbidden and Amber found herself wracked with uncontrollable sobs. She knelt there in the middle of the room, curling herself into a small ball. Amber remained that way until sleep came and quieted her sobs, granting her the mercy of peace.

The slamming of the door shook the whole house, jolting Amber out of her peaceful sleep. Amber tripped as she shot to her feet, and she cried out in pain as she slammed into the far wall. Squeezing her eyes shut the girl struggled to orient herself to reality, sleep still fogging her brain. After a moment of deep breathing, she opened her eyes, fearful of the task at hand. The disorganized chaos of raw foods had gone and in its place stood a banquet fit for a king's army. Several cauldrons of bubbling stew stood lined up against one wall, shared with the barrels of wine. Many tables had been erected throughout the room, each piled high with various foods. Perfectly roasted meats, freshly baked rolls, and even the glazed carrots her stepmother had demanded were now all laid out in baskets ready to be distributed to the guests.

Amber clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in absolute horror at the sight before her. Where the air hung thick with the scent of a freshly prepared meal, she could only smell the death and decay brought on by her dream. Her free hand reached behind her, grasping desperately for the doorknob to free herself from this living nightmare. She found herself falling backward however as the door swung open without her assistance. A thickly painted face stared down at the frightened young girl. It had been nearly a year since her husband had come to visit, and Laurel had spent the better part of the day preparing herself. Though she had once been considered a beauty her time had long passed, and years of hard drinking had taken its toll. Her skin was heavily powdered in white, and combined with darkly rimmed eyes gave her the appearance of being ill. For all her make-up Laurel was unable to hide the cruelty in her eyes, eyes that were once more turned upon Amber. The girl began to tremble as her step-mother turned to survey the room, refusing to watch any reaction Laurel might have at this turn of events.

That night the surrounding fields were lit with the hundreds of fires made by the small army. These bandits had terrorized the outskirts of the kingdom for years. Each year the army traveled through these lands, and each year they grew in number. Rumors had begun circulating that they were not, in fact, the lawless bandits they seemed to be and instead were a foreign army sent to invade the land. Yet more claimed they were hell spawn bent on destroying the communities. The rumors grew into wild tales more outlandish as time passed until even Amber was unsure the true nature of her step-father and his men.

The night was long and tiring, and Amber was tasked with personally serving her step-father and his inner circle. Each passing hour had Amber serving the men drinks and fighting down the self-loathing that came with each inappropriate comment and touch. As the night wore on and the early morning hours came, Amber silently thanked whatever deity was listening that she was dismissed from her duties and allowed to return to her small room to sleep. Amber lay on the cold wooden floor, eyes fixed on the angry red gash on her thumb replaying the day's events over and over. She wondered who could have done all that work without waking her. She wondered how it had gotten in, or if perhaps it was able to take control of her body while she slept. These thoughts circled around in her head as she was pulled back into the abyss of sleep.


End file.
